


Inferno Dreams

by artistickeldeo



Series: Fate/FE-1218 [1]
Category: Fate/Apocrypha, Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, F/F, Heavy Angst, Lots of Cursing, Original Character(s), Trans Mordred | Saber of Red, Widowed, horrible fight scene lmao, im fucking terrible lmfao, jalter is named velours in this fic, jeanne has partial heterochromia in her right eye, light headcanon application, originally a vomit draft/vent writing, theres a lot you wont understand and that’s okay, wasnt gonna make this public but damn do i love me some jeanne/jalter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25959019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artistickeldeo/pseuds/artistickeldeo
Summary: The Grail called forth seven Heroic Spirits to watch over one soul, and four of those seven have appeared. But something feels off. In another time, in an unfamiliar place, Jeanne Alter ends up somewhere that she, and the other Heroic Spirits who joined her, are not supposed to be.It's been months since Jeanne d'Arc left for the Throne of Heroes. Jeanne Alter is not taking it well at all.-(Please refer to the notes at the end of this work.)
Relationships: Jeanne d'Arc | Ruler/Jeanne d'Arc Alter | Avenger
Series: Fate/FE-1218 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954264
Kudos: 10





	Inferno Dreams

It stung when it happened.  
It still stings even now.

There, the Avenger sits. Alone in the field full of sweet iris flowers blooming around the personified being of hatred. She had planted in remembrance of her wife, remembering all too painfully the fight between Masters that happened months ago. The small piles of hay in another corner of the garden, graced with a small wheat field that the two young daughters of her Master adored sprinting through. It made her want to curl the feeling that latched into her chest and hollow it back out.  
She gives a bitter grimace as she reflects deeper into her thoughts, squeezing the flag post tight. Thankfully for the Avenger, the flag post was a part of a Noble Phantasm. If it were wood, it would buckle and splinter into pieces under her grip.  
The deep purple of the petals reminds Avenger of her wife's eyes; odd in color yet it was a color she could never forget. The bright amethyst petals that met the bright blue heavenly sky that Avenger used to think God painted for everyone to live under with happiness. They were not allowed whatever that pitiful deity claimed to offer. _She_ was not happy. She would _never be happy_ without her. Avenger licks her lips briefly, as if to roll the word around in their cheeks. Happiness was a word so foreign to the Avenger that it was rarely anything she used in a positive light. Not even as a descriptor. It felt more as an insult to hurl at people and to make them feel horrible for even _daring_ to feel something she could not; what she thought she could not. But her? Oh, Lord did that word fit the two of them.  
Avenger looks up at the flag owned by the someone she boldly and proudly claims her soulmate. Her banner flew proudly in the lack of breeze in the Garden of ang Palumpon, anchored down by the heavy heart of the Avenger sitting in the dirt.

The Avenger's wife is Jeanne d'Arc. The Saint of Orleans.

It had been months since Jeanne was given back to her, only for disgustingly selfish reasons did someone have to tear her away. The one person that she found love with. The one that gave _her_ love-- that **she gave love to**. The fact the Avenger could love, could grieve, could feel emotions other than hatred, and passionate vengeance twisted by Gilles de Rais through use of the Grail. She found it absolutely wretched that this woman could dare make her feel something else wind tight in her body. Yet... she missed that feeling. She missed the sounds of that holy maiden calling her name as if it were a long forgotten song only meant for one person to hear. Avenger's eyes close as she presses her forehead to the flag post, heaving a sigh. The ache that dug through her stomach and chest...  
They doubt that they could see each other like what happened with her old Master. That one with the ginger hair and youthful face like bread dough. Bright passionate eyes that burned with a resolve and occasional selfishness. (Avenger liked the fact that the Master of Chaldea was not afraid to be selfish with some resolve.) They met in a forgotten time. A time that never existed to anyone else but only in the locked away memories special to her and her old Master. Avenger concluded that it was some left over remnant from when she was "like that," (as their current Master put it), helped preserve her memories. Those memories often unlocked themselves from the back room of her mind to play out in moments like these. The battles she and Jeanne fought together per order of the Chaldea Master, the team arrangements that they often bickered about, meeting Santa Lily (who was not at all thrilled to meet them of course), and the piles and piles of doujins they made amongst themselves, and more bickering and prodding that that stupid confession that they screamed at the dumbfounded dolphin Saint during the loops in Luluhawa...

"What'cha thinkin' 'bout, Vel?" A voice brought back the Avenger to the current time and place, making the platinum blonde let out a startled yelp, fumbling their hold on Jeanne's flag post. The teenager gives a brief hearty cackle, one that Avenger liked to hear often. "Shit dude-- I'm sorry Vel. Didn't mean'ta scare you." He says through a bout of giggles. He leans back to help him regain his breath and a couple cracks from his spine greet the two's ears. "Why are you here?" The Avenger grumbles, turning bright gold eyes back to stare right at their Master's mint green ones. He looks tired per usual. _Blank_ _like that idiot dragon-turned-man_. Her Master sighs. "Am I not allowed to check up on you? You've been thinking about Jeanne for quite awhile."  
"That's none of your concern." She barks back to him.  
"I'm sure she would be, Velours," He sighs, running his scarred hand through his thick black hair. "So maybe you should get up and about. I'll let you play Animal Crossing if you can get your hands off her flag for a bit." Velours felt the rage build back up in her stomach. She stands, refusing to let go of the flag, and turns around to look at her Master. "What I do with my wife's belongings is _my business,_ Max." She spits through gritted teeth. He barely flinches at her venom, as he's heard it all before. Velours knows that. He gives a slow blink from his muddied, sunken ocean eyes as his only real reaction. It frustrates Velours to see him act to careless and to even dare look as such around her. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes but she would not _dare_ to let him see that. "Just leave." She croaks, turning her back to him.  
"Actually, I have another thingymajigy of hers for you." He says, walking haphazardly across the ground to her. The way he walks always makes her think he could trip and fall on his ass. He looks fragile with all those scars on his arms and face and the added anxiety from him practically dancing across the stone tiles she set up leading to the area she made for Jeanne's flag. She feels it's a ploy to get her to leave her spot in the garden, to leave the only reminder of her beloved-- what.

Max's small hands fiddle around the small link that held her cloak together around her shoulders. It was replaced with a familiarly-colored light summer hoodie. It smelt faintly of salt water, and not-so-faintly of what someone could roughly describe as hay mixed with what sunshine could smell like and... home. Or what home meant to Velours. She felt the memories of that far away Summer press against her temples as she pushes her arms into place.  
"Where did you find this?" Velours spoke after a moment of silence to drink in the comfort of the hoodie.  
"Sieg had it. I thought it'd be a good catalyst to summon her, but no luck. Might be because I'm lacking some magic energy," He cackles his trademark cackle that sounded like as if a cat had something in the back of its throat. "Or luck," He finishes. Velours rolls her eyes, leaning her head against her shoulder. She always knew her Master had horrible luck with what he wanted to get, but she was thankful he tried. He kneels down beside Velours, giving an indication that he wants to give her a sign of physical affection. "Can I pat your head for a second?" He gives a gentle smile. She has no clue how he can smile in a time like this. She has no idea how he smiles so genuinely after enduring so much. She nods. "Go ahead. Knock yourself out." She sighs, guiding his hand down onto her head. He nods, giving a soft ruffle of her hair before standing back up. His smile drops slightly, as he sees her expression remains unchanged. "Do you want me to invite Athena and Avalon?" Max tilts his head. As much as Velours loved his little ones, and as much as she's thankful that Rosalind, his wife, allows them around her, she shakes her head. "No. I'm afraid to get them involved into all this mess."  
"It's not your fault this happened, Velours. I was being selfish--"  
"Cut the shit, Master," She snaps his sentence short. "You and I know that you were trying to protect them when they were too scared to. It was worse when _she_ faulted you for things that you could not control, and that you suffered because of what _she_ did."  
"V-Velours, I..." He begins, trying hard not to fumble his words. To no avail. He wilts under her sharp gaze like one of the many rose bushes in the other parts of the garden and holds his tongue. "I'm sorry. I'll stop now." He sighs, turning around to leave the platinum blonde alone. "Well, again. You're welcome to the Front. My save file isn't going to play itself, and I don't think it can hold my interest for long." He feigns a chuckle, walking away. He began to hum a song familiar to the both of them. The lyrics play aloud in her head with his melody.

It hurts. She wants to go with him, but she's afraid to miss the event if she ever arrives here. If she ever _does_ arrive, that is. She knew that the Grail only used a Ruler to summon on specific occasions. It was practically ingrained in her Saint Graph that she knew everything that kept her away from Jeanne. It hurt. Every moment she was away was a moment that she could arrive and sing those familiar songs from that church in Domrémy.

The Avenger could get lonely.

* * *

Another set of lost days passed.  
Velours didn't care to remember the recap of the week. The only things worth nothing is that Avalon could form a couple sentences, and run with Athena, Mateo could sing again after the months of staying practically silent (even around Samuel). Mordred was getting more and more persistent in trying to figure out how to pry Jeanne's flag from the ground, with Astolfo and Sieg serving as a distractions. The last one was the most notable reason. They stopped after awhile... only for her to notice her wedding band _and_ engagement ring missing from her left ring finger.

In a fit of rage, Velours burst forth from the garden, immediately attacking Mordred with a burst of hellfire. Tears spilled forth and down her cheeks as she picked the wounded Knight of the Round table up by the red pleather jacket. " **Where. Are they?!** " She spat firmly in the knight's face. Mordred summons Clarent, kicking her in the side with his right foot and drops onto the floor. He sweeps her feet out from under her, only to have Velours catch herself with her right hand, propelling her back onto her feet. Her armor crackles forth from purple lighting and forms around her form. "You bastard! You took my wedding band and my engagement ring while I was asleep, didn't you?! You're trying to take her away from me-- you fucking son of a bitch!" She hisses, running forward in a blind rage. Mordred grits his teeth, watching her sloppy form that took place as she was blind with hatred. He dodges a mixture of fire and mana, amplified by her intense emotion. He takes this to strike back with a burst of mana from Clarent, slamming the blade down onto the Avenger. Velours grunts, a deep gash on her left shoulder forming.  
That only served to make her increasingly pissed.  
In a scream of pure anger, she claws blindly at Mordred, trying to hit him with fire burst after fire burst. He narrowly dodges each one, given his speed and endurance is much greater than that of the glass cannon that Velours is. "Alright, assface, that's enough!" Mordred shouts back, elbowing Velours in the nose, causing her vision to blur. He follows up with a knee to her jaw. Sieg and Astolfo came up from behind to restrain her, while Max ran up onto the scene. "Velours, what the actual fuck dude?!" He shouts over the screams and sobs that shook the woman. Even with the added strength of three Servants, Velours feebly attempts to shake them off. She claws off her left gauntlet and presses her thumb to the marks of where the two rings used to be, giving out a strained sob. Max sighs, making his way over to her hand and offering his. Hesitantly, she obliges, and places her hand onto his. "Let her go, the three of you." He orders firmly. He presses a brief kiss to Mordred's lips to restore and used up mana, and guides the shivering Avenger to... "that area."

* * *

With a meanwhile with the group Max left behind with Velours, Rosalind, (she prefers being called Yan-chan to everyone's common knowledge of the caretaker) walks up to the group.  
"Did it work?" The kind woman, with a smile wrinkled with age, asked. The three nodded in affirmation. "Damn well didn't expect her to go on a rampage right then and there, to be honest." Mordred shrugs, dismissing Clarent from his grasp. "Almost thought I'd need my armor for this instead."  
"I could have stunned her further with use of Balmung," Sieg mumbles. He rolls his shoulders back, and looks to the dragon-like Command Seal on his left hand. "Almost thought I would need to call upon Siegfried's power."  
"It's nothin' to worry about at aaaaaaall, Sieg!" Astolfo cheers, throwing his arms around the homunculus. Sieg gives a soft and patient smile. "I know it will be. I have all the faith in the world in her."   
"Well isn't that sweet of you, Sieg." Yan giggles, giving a stray strand of thick black hair a brush backwards. It's astounding how the older plump soul could act so akin to a child sometimes. Even it baffles her husband at times. Sieg blushes and looks away, averting his maroon eyes from hers.

* * *

The deeper parts of the garden always fascinated Velours. It was always so serene in the main parts, hearing Rosalind humming songs of old with the joy and laughter of Athena and Avalon echoing through the sky, the soft ukulele playing that Max would do on the more relaxed days and the singing he did, the air of relaxation without a care in the world... It was sharply contrasted with the deeper parts of ang Palumpon. It felt as if something or someone would reach out and grab the heroine(?) and her Master, thrusting them into a world of constricting dead thistle flowers, burying their minds to where they could never be found. Velours had heard the story of how Mateo came around, and she feared that fate whenever venturing deep into these deadlands. Back to the current questions on Velours's mind, though. She gave a light tug against Max's guiding hand. "Why are you taking me to the summoning spot?" She tilts her head, trying hard not to sound hopeful.  
"You'll see in a moment, Vel." He turns to look at her, giving a very joyful grin. Velours's chest is doing flips as she recognizes this smile. His smiles seem to be the most easily readable of his vast pool of emotions, and even just by looking and judging the length of his lopsided smile is how she can tell if he's pure with his intentions, or purely up to no good. This smile was one that gave a sign of a purely a good thing. The two continue on, boots crunching the dead cold leaves underneath their soles, giving a satisfying _crrksh, crrksh_ as the shuffle about along the beaten path. Velours could practically hear her voice calling her name, feel her warmth, smell her scent, taste her lips, see the everlasting beauty her features captured and she did not care at all. She did not care if she would be called a "softie" for loving Jeanne. She did not care if she were to be teased by everyone if it meant seeing that holy maiden. _Her_ holy maiden. To have her by her side again, Gods would Velours cry on the spot.

And she heard the Holy Maiden singing songs of love as she sat there.

She sang in a familiar tune known to all the world at this point, but both parties did not care. It felt another eternity that she wasn't with her, that she wasn't in her life... but there she was. Surrounded by doves (that Velours didn't even know could exist in this garden) and singing loudly "Je vois la vie en rose..." It made the Avenger's senses do flips. The catalyst close by was of her engagement ring and her wedding band set on a pedestal, (which would take some explaining from the rest of the Bouquet) and a familiar-looking ukulele named Orchid. Velours was frozen, even after Max let go of her hand. She wasn't sure how she was going to react, if she knew about the situation or if it was just a sick copy of her beloved that funneled her loss. "Oh come on, Vel," Max murmured, giving a light elbow to her side. "Go ahead. I already filled her in on everything, even though she remembers."  
"She remembers the fight...?"  
"Yeah. I already apologized, but it seems after her Graph got refreshed, she's a lot more clear in her mind to my knowledge," Max hums. "Also can't Ruler classes sense other classes? I think she knows you're here, dumbshit." He snickers, the nervous Avenger's cheeks turning red. "Just go, useless lesbian." He pats her back akin to a dad to his son, and turns his back to head to the Front. He gives the cliché backwards hand wave.

With a couple seconds to fiddle with her short hair, she walks under the archway to the Summoning Area. Jeanne looks practically heavenly. The peek of sunlight that helps with Heroic Spirit summons shines through and splatters dapple light onto her. The smile on her sun-kissed face, the slight indents on her cheeks as she smiles and sings for a silent audience, her hair is loose, glowing golden in the light as it flutters in the light breeze of the cold thistle clearing. A familiar lump in Velours's throat forms, causing "happiness" to swell in her chest. She takes a step forward. Two steps forward. She quickly speeds up her strides and nearly tackles Jeanne to the ground, squeezing the woman close to her and kissing her frantically. Velours's hands grab at whatever they could to force Jeanne closer to her, continuing to kiss her beloved, her heart pounding loudly in her head. She could hear Jeanne laughing happily as she kept kissing, feeling tears build up as she did whatever she could to make sure that Jeanne was really here in front of her. Jeanne pushes lightly on Vel's shoulders, indicating to take a breath. She obliges, backing up with a couple pants. Jeanne's speckled hands brush lightly against Velours's burning face, wiping the small tears that fell from her eyes. She could feel the scratch of her rings against her face, but she did not care at all. It was a reminder of their love that would last beyond time itself. Jeanne gives a smile that Velours missed, sliding her hands from her face. She brings Velours's left hand up and slips the wedding band on, and then the engagement ring. Velours rests her forehead on Jeanne's.  
Oh Lord, Jeanne must be what Heaven feels like. To feel loved and desired, to love and desire in return a mutual feeling. She could go on and on for hours about what Jeanne makes her feel, regardless if her heartless demeanor demands against it.

Jeanne looks up at Velours, her eyes sparkling with love and gentle with affection. Velours gives a look of love back.

"Hello, mon amour."

**Author's Note:**

> i bet yall have so many questions about this fic lmfao  
> for anyone who's not familiar with me, the person behind this fic, i'll give a short summary of the location. 
> 
> \- it's a roughly like a reality marble in fate, but it's also not, and the entire Garden of ang Palumpon is a magical garden made to soothe and relax the inhabitants  
> each new inhabitant that enters the reality gets their own vast part of the garden to do whatever they please with it, and the known limit is around 100 people  
> the outer perimeter is lined with a "dark forest" of sorts, where a lot of the mental landscape is unstable, and it's alluded to in the story that Mateo came from there/recovered from being in there  
> \- if i choose to write more about this, i will make this a "series" in a sense so that way it's a lot more interesting to learn about the strangers of this world that our Servant friends reside in  
> \- the "Front" they refer to throughout the fic is basically because they're all in the mental landscape of a child (hence the summary referencing a "in another time in another place... ...[they] are not supposed to be") and so there's always someone making sure that the mental landscape can be sustained by influencing the child's actions (or directly controlling them in this case)
> 
> now for the character notes  
> \- Jeanne Alter/Jalter is referred to as Velours in this fic because of her desiring to be something different than Jeanne. She accepts that Heroic Spirits are only the collective remembrance of humanity, so she wished to differ herself from the kind soul that is her wife, so she came up with the name Velours after consulting some friends  
> \- Rosalind/Yan-chan is actually half Japanese, half Mexican/Hispanic, so her mannerisms are much more bizarre to write  
> \- Max's scars are from past encounters with the "monsters in the dark forest," and was a sole protector before the Servants came along, so he has a lot of gashes  
> nobody understands how he's still in one piece lol
> 
> now that's about enough, i'll explain more in a series of stories rather than dump exposition in a one-shot of me rambling drunkenly whilst under a medication withdrawal and trying to process feelings if people want me to  
> thank you for reading this garbage fire lol


End file.
